


Because I could not stop for death.

by Neko_Airie



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, attempted suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Airie/pseuds/Neko_Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for Kink Meme<br/>d'Artagnan is still reeling from [insert whatever you want here], and leaves a note to each of the boys, thanking them for everything and bidding them goodbye. <br/>They find them prematurely and manage to get there in time to keep him from committing suicide. <br/>I would love to see an extended version, rather than a quick fix, where they take turns watching him and keeping him close, and figure out what's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I could not stop for death.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!
> 
> Posting from phone at moment and writing as well please point out any glaring corrections

The sun spilled in large obnoxious pillars through the window of Athos bed room falling on to the bed and the sleeping man. He groaned and pulled one arm up to cover his eyes, turning away bones creaking as he moved. Expecting to feel one of his lovers led their, he had rolled into bed last night with d’Artangan after they had been the only pair left in the tavern after Aramis and Porthos left. 

They could all tell that there was something heavy on his mind, there was no escaping it, he was taking the ‘Athos’ rout to solving his problems. Many bottle of wine, brandy and bad ale. He had surprised the group with the amount of booze he could drink and still hold a some what coherent conversation. Although they could see that there was something wrong they trusted d’Artangan to come to them, they offered a sympathetic ear and in Porthos case a sympathetic rib crushing bear-hug. Aramis had made easy jokes that would ease his heart with laughter and smiled and Athos was the quite man that offered nothing other than a drinking companion and somewhere warm and comforting to lay and sleep of the drink.

Finding d’Artangan gone was nothing worrying really, he often rose early to go riding or practice his sword form alone. Athos rolled over again and swung his legs over the side of the wooden frame and stood rubbing his hands over his face. Something wasn’t sitting right in his stomach, he could feel it something was off about today. Putting on his leathers and tightening his belt around his waist. Their was a knock on his door before it swung open and Porthos walked in followed by Aramis. “Mornin’” Aramis sounded annoyingly chipper. Athos groaned and glared at him. “Do you have to sound so damned happy.” Aramis laughed and clapped him on the back.  
“Well if you laid off the wine and left earlier then this hang over wouldn’t be so BAD!” He yelled that last word in Athos ear and watched him wince and lash out weakly barely clipping on the shoulder. Porthos cast a look round the room looking for something. “Were’s d’Artangan?” Athos shrugged and headed to the door. “He wasn’t here when I woke. Didn’t you see him in the courtyard on the way up?” Porthos shook his head. “No? Must have gone ridding then” Athos rationalised.

Leaving and walking towards their usual table to await Serge and breakfast they chatted idly, that is until Aramis brought up the subject of d’Artangans recently dark mood. “Did he say anything to you last night after we left?” Armis asked over a slice of warm bread. Athos put his drink down and shook his head. “After you left, he ordered a few more bottles and drank every one of them. Even after I stopped he carried on. I tried asking him what was eating him but he just muttered something about Labarge, may be he still being eaten up by his farm being burnt down. We left and got back to mine, climbed into bed and he curled right into me. I just wrapped my arms around him and told him that I an we loved him. He replied, that he was sorry about his bad mood and that he didn’t want to make us unhappy . We said goodnight, next thing I was being woken by the sun.” Athos explained in-depth what went on during his night with the boy. Aramis frowned and looked at Porthos who had cleared his plate and was leaning closer to hear what was being said. “Unhappy, How could he make us unhappy. He lovely and so beautiful… How could he make us unhappy” Aramis asked looking towards Porthos seeing if he had an explanation. Porthos shook his head. “We’re going to have a serious chat with our boy when he gets back.” Porthos growled, he took it very personally when one that he loved felt in any way that they were not worth something. Their conversation was cut short when Treville called to them from the balcony of his office.

“I see three, where is the fourth.” Treville asked, he had long assumed that if you had one of them you had all of them. Athos stepped forwards, he was the one that usually faced Treville when all of them were up for inspection. “He rose and left before all of us, we have yet to see to him today.” Treville cocked an eyebrow and waited, he was half expecting to see d’Artangan dart in after being left outside. “Right, Well you can fill him in later. There are a few letters that need delivering to a large estate on the outskirts of France. It’s a three week trip there and back.” Porthos gaped at him mouth open. “Three weeks.” Trevilled nodded. “Think of it as a holiday.” Aramis clapped his hands together and practically bounced on the spot. “This is going to be perfect, think Athos. d’Artangan is going to love this.” Their was heavy meaning behind what he was saying, Athos caught on quickly. “Yes, I see your point he would like to be back into country side.” He turned back to Treville and nodded. “We will go forth with.” Treville slid the letters across the table. “That’s six weeks, so you will need some expense money. There are musketeer outposts set up that you can get money from. Here is hundred livre to start. Don’t go flashing it around like you own paris.” Treville tossed a purse to Athos as well, he suddenly felt like a father sending his children off. Naughty and misbehaved children that couldn’t be trusted as far as his horse could buck them. Athos snatched it from Aramis grasping fingers and glowered to him. “Fine.” 

The three each went to their respective rooms to pack for their journey. Aramis grabbed the large saddle bags that he kept for long journey’s they were heavily emblazoned with the musketeer logo. Sling them onto his bed he moved around the room grabbing extra leathers and shirts. Turning back to pack them into his saddle bags he felt something crumple under the weight of them. Frowning he pulled out the leather and shirts and peered inside, spotting a crumpled parchment letter he snatched it up. He could have swore that he left them empty the last time he had used them. Inspecting either side of the letter he noted that it was indeed addressed to him in neat yet basic writing that he didn’t recognise. It’ wasn’t sealed which was odd for a letter, raising his eyebrows he began to unfold the letter.

Aramis   
I can’t begin to thank you for everything that you have done for me. When I came to Paris I was truly alone here, I insulted and even tried to kill a dear friend of yours and yet you never once insulted or belittled me. You could have left me out in the cold after proving Athos innocent but again you didn’t. Over the past year you have taught me to shoot, taught me to be proud and confident with who I am and I can’t thank you enough. My actual response was to yell and sulk when something didn’t go my way, I never listened when I should have and caused problems when I should have left well enough alone. I almost got someone killed on many occasions. You are a romantic man that has a massive heart and will love with the whole of it. Over the past few weeks I have watched you with the other and come to realise that I am making you unhappy. When you looked at me you’d frown, when you looked at Porthos or Athos you always smiled. I came to Paris to avenge my father and I have done this, I didn’t intend to fall in love and certainly not with three beautiful men.

I will always hold the dearest of memories of you all, but one that make my heart swell. Remember when we came back from that trip with M. Rouge. Porthos hated him, and we found the lake. You promised me we would go back. I suddenly remembered that we didn’t, to much happened. I wish I could have seen it with you, I can see your eyes now, they would have sparkled with the water as the sun set, Porthos would have gone swimming and Aramis would drink sweet wines, the best we could pay for. I would have be our place. It is our place. It’s too late now.

There was so much that I could have done in my life to show how much I loved you, how much I still and always will love you. But now I am letting you go, be happy with Athos and Porthos. You deserve it. I should never have left Gascony, there was so much that I have lost that was my fault. I can’t get Gascony back but I have finally found a way to atone for what I have done and the lives I have taken. I just want to see my family again. 

Be with Athos and Porthos, Be happy and love like you do.

Forever loved  
d’Artangan.

 

Aramis stared at the letter, it was just words on parchment. It was pretty nice parchment, thick. Must have cost a lot, same with the ink. It was nice ink. All this said planning. Planning, planning to say goodbye. Goodbye. 

Time seemed to have slowed down as each and ever word sunk in. A deep sense of panic radiated through his body starting at the hand with the letter in it. He had to do something, something to stop it, something to save him. He couldn’t move fast enough as he lurched into motion pushing his way through his door and past musketeers on the walkway. He paid no heed to the yells or angry shouts that followed him. “Athos!” He screamed the name, truly screamed. His heart pounded. Why? “Athos!” He kept screaming and screaming. People were stopping to stare he didn’t care. He spotted Athos opening his door a look of abject fear on his face also clutching a letter in his hand, his eyes were wet and panicked. Aramis stopped when he came face to face with him and found he couldn’t say anything. Athos looked at the letter in his own and then Aramis hand. “We need to find him.” The statement was needed yet it wasn’t. Aramis jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he twisted in the grip and found Porthos stood behind him. “Did you-“ Porthos nodded and held up a letter also. “Where would he go?” The large man asked grabbing the reigns of three tacked horses and leading them towards the gates. A wave of doubt and fear rocked through them, Where would he go. Aramis pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw bright lights. It suddenly jumped out at him, he swung himself onto the mount. “The lake. We said we would go back.” Athos and Porthos weren’t completely sure but it was the best they had.

The hooves thundered through the streets of Paris, lethal and loud. The people on the streets jumped out of the way at they tore through the streets pressing their backs to the wall of housed and into stall for fear of being crushed. The three rode with no care, they had to find him. Find their light. d’Artangan had done so much for them all more than he knew.

Athos tried to concentrate on the path before him but he couldn’t get the words of his letter from his mind. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He wanted to hold his d’Artangan to his chest and protect him from the world. Tell him that everything would be okay that he would be fine. Now he didn’t know if he would get the chance to tell him he loved him again.

Athos

What do I say to the man who can look at me and see everything I ever said and wanted to say. Sorry. I am so sorry. Sorry I have worried you, Sorry I have betrayed you like she did, Sorry that I’m not man enough to say goodbye to your face. You were like my father, my older brother and most of all you were my lover. You hold such a gift for quiet company that I could say nothing and you would still know what to do. I never wanted to hurt you, I never set out to break all my promises to you. I became a musketeer, but there was nothing left for me to protect. When I challenged you, I was foolish. But I’m glad, you are one of the best men on earth. You have to be. You survive day in and day out yet I am a coward and I have given up.

When you read to me on those evenings when were both deep in out cups and led in your bed. I was warm and I felt so safe. I never wanted to leave, I realised then that I could never protect you. I could sink in the sound of your voice, the way it explained away the troubles of the world. You could have said anything and I would have believed you, you chose to say 'I love you’. I believed it I really did and you did to. I could see it in your eyes. Then again as the saying goes, if you love it let it go. And I know that once you read this you will want to come back, but I’m not good for you. I swear I’m not. I’ll get you killed, I’ll get you hurt. I don’t want that.

I have caused you so many problems, I never listened. When I dragged you from that fire and you told me about her I promised my self that I would never turn out like her. This is my way of ensuring that I don’t. Can you do one last thing for me, please. I know that I have no right to ask this of you but please don’t blame yourself. I was just a boy that turned up and stuck his nose in where it’s doesn’t belong. Porthos and Aramis deserve you, I never did. I squandered what I had and lost the rest by absence. It seems funny writing that and planning this. I watch the three of you and I am so happy that I haven’t destroyed something so perfect. You put up with me and now I see that I should leave.

This is my goodbye, not a moment to soon. 

Don’t loose them, Don’t let them go. They love you more than they know.

Lovingly  
d’Artangan.

 

Had he missed something, did he not listen when d’Artangan screamed this at him in every way. They all saw something was wrong but they done nothing, wait they did. They ignored the obvious and went about waiting for proud d’Artangan to come to them. How did that look to him while he stewed his own misery. Was their something that they should have noticed, the way he looked at a blade? Was he careless in battle searching for death? There was nothing, he was d’Artangan, could he truly have hidden that well. 

Athos watched at the streets of Paris became blurs that morphed into green and brown of trees and grass. He had never considered what would happen if he lost one of his lovers. It was an inherent risk of their vocation but he had always assumed that he would be the first to go, either from drink or the thrust of an others sword. He had considered the easy way out once, then he realised it wasn’t easy. There was always something that would draw him back from the edge. He would see the dangerous smile on Porthos face as a Red Guard picked a fight with him or the suave smirk of Aramis as he used his charms to extract information from some young man or woman. There was always something, but some how d’Artangan had lost sight of all of that. Athos vowed to himself that he would give the kid a list as long as his arm of reasons why he needed to live. If he found him alive, no! When they found him alive. 

held onto that though for a while and had to resign himself to the truth.

IF they found him

Porthos couldn’t think, he need to keep his mind clear and strong. He need to not think, he needed to ride. He need to search and find. He needed to save. he tightened his grip on the reigns and felt the letter in his fist crumple even more. The letter. He never let it go. He feared he never would if they didn’t find him in time. But he knew they would. They were the Kings Musketeers, they had to. They had to…

Porthos

How I wish I was sat with you now, leant against your strong chest, wrapped in your arms so tight, so warm. Id know then that when I finally go to sleep, when I don’t wake again I can be sure that you know I loved you. I’m tired, so tired, how I wish I could sleep. I always loved sleeping next to you. My bear, my dark skinned exotic lover. You were so awe inspiring when I first saw you. Yet what was even more stunning, your smile. Your laugh, so big and bright enough to light the heavens above. But you never cared for the romantics did you.

You taught me how to dual, like a proper musketeer. “I taught him that one.” Your pride in me, I’ve never felt better to be looked at like that. I don’t think I would have ever been able to beat you though. To well practiced, anyway I aways needed your help to carry Athos home and free Aramis from angry husbands. Please look after them, they are going to blame themselves I know they will, it’s not their fault. It never was, it’s not yours I promise you this. It was mine, I got to confident. I’m not a musketeer, I’m a farm boy from Gascony, it’s where i should have stayed. I had no business here in Paris. I’m a farm boy and I realise this now, I’m a farm boy with out a farm. I have no purpose. Porthos, your the protector, protect them. Protect Aramis, let him love. He needs to love, it’s who he is. Protect Athos, he’s the wisdom and the advice. Never any good at taking his own by your there to pick him up again after. Athos the Wiseman and Aramis the lover and Porthos the protector. What was there left for me. There was no room.

Your so strong, but I can see every word that hurts you taking a chunk from your armour. Use them, make them your own. Use them to create you armour. Your are from the court of Miracles, that makes you exotic and unpredictable. Use that, I alway loved that side of you, when you forgot the uniform, when you forgot the way people though of your parents. You are as much a creation of god as any white man, just ask Aramis. When I see you from my eyes I see a man so great and strong in every way that I feel unworthy to complain about anything. Carry on like that show them that you are Porthos Du Vallon and you are your own man. Reek havoc and give Treville a run for his money.

I’m so scared Porthos, I’m terrified . I don’t know anymore. I want to cry, I want to scream but I can’t.

Please  
Please

Never forget me please

d’Artangan.  
______________________________________________________________________

The three pushed their mounts harder and harder. The horses flanks heaved deep heavy gasps, sweat streamed from their skin and heads tossed madden by the ever forceful gestures of their riders. They were close, they had to be. How long did d’Artangan have left. Was it already over? Porthos kicked even harder but his horse could go no faster as they advanced. He looked the others, Aramis face was wet with tears that flew from his cheeks dragged by the air they cut as they rode, Athos face was hidden from his sight bit Porthos could give a pretty good guess to the expression he wore. 

Aramis gave an excavation and yanked harshly on the reigns of his horse almost forcing it to it’s knees as he turned. Porthos and Athos followed suite know that they were close. The sun was beginning to set, warm and golden. Athos recognised the lake now, he remembered the promise, he remembered the look of d’Artangans face when they had found it. He could hardly bare to think about what this place would mean if they were to late, you could’ burn a lake. 

The three horses crested a small hill that lead down to the lake in a steady slope. He was there, they could see him. He was just sat there looking out at the water. It seemed so normal so calm. Trying to nudge their horses on they soon realised that they are two exhausted to move now. Sliding from his mount Aramis moved forward, he wants to run so badly, to run screaming, praying that it’s not to late. Scream and demand that God not take him not to be so cruel. He can’t his legs won’t move more then a few steps at a time and his voice is trapped in his chest forced down by the beating in his heart. Be Okay, Please, Be okay.  
______________________________________________________________________  
d’Artangan had sat there all day, he had watched the sun rise there and now he would watch it set it was so beautiful. He replayed his dream of them over and over in his head. He could see them all.

Porthos was splashing in the water and trying to drag a reluctant Aramis in. After all that water would ruin his hair and his hat. His all important hat. But eventually Porthos would win and drag Aramis waist deep into the water hat and all. After the laughing and the yelling they kissed deep in the water sun sparking on skin. He would watch and cat call like the child he was, even Athos would look up and smile in his way. Then go back to his book. Later in the evening they would all be led on the grass with wine and food. He would ask Athos to read aloud, and he would. Not from where he was but he would go back to the beginning just for them. Then they would watch the stars and fall asleep.

Then he would sleep, sleep forever. He imagined that it would hurt more than it did, putting the blade to his arm and digging it deep. It was excruciating, feeling each tiny bur on the edge of his blade like it was wound all of it’s own as it cut. The blood didn’t spurt out in a arc like he heard some one say once, it drained slowly flowing like the water of his lake through the stream. He couldn’t hold the blade anymore. He heard the sound of the hooves behind him, part of him was so happy that they had found him. He wouldn't be alone now. He pulled all the strength he had left when he felt them next to him. Athos was kicking the blade away and pulling an arm up trying to stanch the flow. Aramis was tearing strip of his shirt up to tie the cuts off with. Another thing he had ruined. Porthos was in front of him now speaking, he couldn’t hear properly. With what remained of his strength made eye contact with Porthos he spoke, before his vision went black

 

“I’m not Scared anymore."

 

Porthos felt the weight as it slipped into his arms, it was worryingly light. Panicking he took hold of his shoulders and forced them back. d’Artangan head pitched forward just handing on his shoulders, like a dead weight. Dead. He shook his own head side to side trying to calm the rising hysterics in his chest. no no NO NO! He couldn’t be they had got their in time. He clasped the shoulders tighter and shook him back and forth trying to get some response from the body. d’Artangans head just rock sickly back and forth. Aramis took hold of Porthos hands. “Stop. I need you to calm down please.” Porthos stopped laying him back on the grass and turned his head to look at Aramis. His hands were stained with blood, so much blood and there were tears pouring down his face dripping onto the grass. Taking a few deep breaths and swallowing he spoke “What do you need me to do?” His voice was shaking, and he felt his own tears on his chin.

Aramis didn’t speak he just stared at one of the cuts covered by blood stained rags of his shirt. “Aramis” Porthos tried again, nothing.”ARAMIS! Something, tell me to do something. Make this better. Do something” Porthos could stop himself as he yelled, d’Artangan was slipping through their fingers and no-one was doing anything to stop it. “Needle and thread” The answer was quiet, almost non-existent. “I need a needle and thread. I need to sew this up.” Porthos scrambled up to the horses slipping in the grass. Delving into the side of one the saddles he pulled out a basic aid kit. Praying to any god that would listen that he would find needle and thread he opened it. Yes!  
He slid down the hill again and thrust the kit to Aramis with shaking hands. “What else?” Aramis answered quicker now. ”A fire, hot water.” Porthos set about building a fire a little way off. He needed to help.

Aramis tried threading the needle but his hands are shaking to much, he can’t see for the tears. He needs to concentrate he knows this but he can’t his mind won’t focus. He bites into the side of his cheek, trying to make something real enough for his mind to register. For none of this could truly happen, d’Artangan could be lead here dying, bleeding out because they didn’t take the time to question what ‘I’m fine’ and ‘It’s nothing’ really meant. He began to pray in his head, was it a pray. No he was begging now. Begging that god not take away one of the only good things in his life. 

Finally! The needle was threaded. He looked at the wound where did he start. “Deep breath Aramis.” He started slightly at the sound of Athos voice. He nodded and took a deep breath trying to steady his hands. Pushing that needle through his skin was never harder than it was now. He had patched little d’Artangan up pliantly of times after missions and such but it was never this difficult. He pulled each stitch closer together, fixing the artery that he had severed, he was horrified by how deep d’Artangan had cut. He could even say that d’Artangan would ever hold a sword again. “Athos. I can’t sew this, I’m going to have to cauterise it.” Athos flinched by nodded. It was the fastest and safest way to stop the blood flow from the small blood vessels. “Porthos. I need you to heat yours and Athos swords.” Porthos blanched over the fire before standing and retracing the swords. Aramis looked back down at the wound and saw that the stitched was doing very little to stem the flow of blood. He quickly compressed and raised the wound. It wasn’t working and they were all out of time. d’Artangan was barely breathing and he could feel very little pulse in his neck. “Hurry Porthos, We’re loosing him.” Aramis turned his face to the heavens and yelled for his god. His god of love who was going to take his love away. “Why? Why are ayou so cruel. I served you. He served you yet you take his life from him when he’s so young. Why! Arn’t you a god of Mercy. Please have mercy. Please.”

Athos couldn’t bare it anymore. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Normal. He could feel blood slide between his fingers dripping, life blood d’Artangan could not afford to loose. He listened to Aramis scream at a God he had put so much trust in as he took away one he loved. There was no way to come back from this, no way he could go back to being a musketeer if he died, no way any of them could do it. He knew they all knew it. They would slowly self destruct around this, taking anyone who got to close down with them.

Porthos came over with a red hot sword wrapped in leather in one hand. He layer the other on Aramis shoulder. “Let me do this. You can’t” Aramis didn’t object but offered the limb. Porthos pressed the steal to the wound and gagged at the stench of burring flesh that rose up. Athos promptly turned to the side and vomited into the grass, heaving he shifted away to allow Aramis to get to the wound on that arm. The process was repeated again, the burning sword was placed against the tacked wound. Porthos had tossed each of the swords way, vowing never to use them again. 

Now it began, the waiting. The long night of uncertainty, begging that he stay alive. That he stayed with them.


End file.
